Page 82 of Prettiest Little Thief
Headlights in my rearview came into view. Fox couldn’t have possibly caught up that fast.
“Uhhh, Monroe. I think we have company.” Evan peered through the side mirror.
A red Bugatti revved behind me, gaining speed. As they progressed, I could make out two figures. Shit. Joseph in the driver’s seat and Christian beside him.
“Evan, I’m going to need you to figure out how to get them off our ass.” I turned to face him. “Whatever it takes.” My mouth dried and stomach fluttered. Terror trickled into my bloodstream, sending my heart pounding erratically beneath my sternum.
“Drive faster, little thief. You have to lose them.” Lucas’s groggy voice wasn’t a good sign.
“I don’t know if I can.” But my foot pressed down harder on the gas anyway.
A shot rang out. And then another. Sarah ducked lower in the back, forcing Lucas down along with her.
Evan rolled down the window and took aim, firing in quick succession. Several more bullets whizzed by our car. A sharp turn was coming up and I had to start to slow down so we didn’t slide off the asphalt.
“This car can handle it, Monroe,” Lucas shouted.
“I’m scared, Lucas. I don’t want to crash again.” My hands tightened on the wheel.
“Baby, have I ever led you astray? I had this car modified, it’s supposed to be your wedding gift.”
Surprise hit me, and I blinked back tears. “I don’t need your fancy car. I just want you to live through this. I want to get you to the hospital and keep you alive.” A tear streaked down my cheek, scalding and salty.
More gunfire burst around the car as anger, fear, and love pulsed through me. This was a moment I was so afraid of living through again. The uncertainty of life or death hung over me like a storm cloud. I couldn’t lose my husband. No matter the cost. I needed him.
So, I wiped the wetness from my face and glanced in the mirror one last time before slamming my foot down on the pedal.
Chapter Forty-Three
Lucas
My wife was a badass. She just needed to pull through whatever was going on in her pretty little head. And I knew the moment she did, because the car took off, tires sliding as we rounded a turn. We were almost out of the canyon.
I had looked back at the video footage of Monroe’s car chase with the police so many times. Her maneuvers were sloppy at best. But that was the fear she hadn’t overcome. She could handle this. She could handle anything.
Monroe Knight was a hell of a woman, and when we got out of this, I would worship her sexy little body to show her just how much I appreciated her.
In pain, I reached over to the window and pressed the button to roll it down. “Monroe, my gun.”
Her brown gaze flicked to the mirror for a second. “You’re nuts.” But she passed the handpiece off to me, and I positioned my weapon. Once there was a clear shot, I would aim to take out one of the tires to slow them down. With the winding turns, it would be difficult.
Evan continued shooting when he had an opening and had reloaded a couple of times already. None of them struck true.
Where the fuck was Fox?
A straightaway was coming up, and I knew that would be my chance to take my shot. Lining it up the best I could with my injured arm, I pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed the fucking tire. Not enough to puncture.
“Fuck,” I said, sitting back in the seat, my gun on my knee. Searing pain poured into my shoulder and arm. My teeth were clamped together so hard, my jaw ached. Blood still oozed from my bullet wound, but the tourniquet had done its job. At least for a little while.
“Just let them have me. Lucas, you need to get to the hospital without Christian and Joseph being up our ass.” Sarah had a pained expression on her face. One of guilt.
“Screw that.” There was no way I was letting my little sister go back to that hell hole. “Keep driving, Monroe.”
“That’s what I planned on doing,” my wife said.
Christian and Joey gained on our bumper, coming within inches of hitting us. Monroe managed to break away from them just as we would have collided. We were reaching speeds that no one should, but this was a matter of life and death. Freedom and imprisonment.
Just as Evan and I both pointed our guns out the window again, the Bugatti jerked to the side, and the car hurtled off the narrow highway and tumbled down the hillside, disappearing.
